Confetti
by Buddhacide
Summary: More than a decade after Lillian, Sei attends Youko's wedding to a colleague in Youko's law firm. This brief, canon-based oneshot is about the final reflections between two inseparable Roses before they lose each other forever. "What was our love for?"


**CONFETTI**

**A Youko x Sei story  
**

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Hi there! This is just another one of my fairly brief oneshots. Set in the canon universe, with a bit of a speculative twist (which contradicts one of my earlier Youko x Sei fics: that's the whole point, to explore all the possibilities). Sorry if it's a bit boring, had to get some of these weird thoughts in my head down. =.= Thanks for having a read and I hope you enjoy it! (^o^)

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Despite her crisp white tuxedo and handsome short hair, Satou Sei felt ugly just sitting next to the whimpering Eriko, who looked beautiful amidst her rare tears. She gripped her husband Yamanobe's arm as she sniffled, genuinely, into her handkerchief. On her other side were Shimako and Noriko, in matching lime and ivy gowns, who looked equally touched, and their dreamy eyes guaranteed a similarly happy future. Sitting behind them were pigtailed Yumi, Sachiko, and attentive Touko-chan. The Chinensis trio was a trinity of mutually loving persons, just like the Triune God himself. It was as if those three were one with each other, with Yumi and Touko descending from the angelic arms of Sachiko. Then there were Rei and Yoshino, who were simply looking on in rapt attention to the priest's consecration. And of course, graduate journalists Tsutako-chan and Mami-chan, flash-photographing away at the whole thing. Even their office dresses looked better than Sei's tacky suit. Even their smiles, hidden behind their professional cameras, were more visible.

Everyone was here. They were all grown-up, in love, and they all looked beautiful in their dresses and suits as far as Sei was concerned. Everyone except herself.

Everyone was here, except Youko, who actually stood up _there_ before the altar, looking into the loving eyes of a tall Korean expat, who worked alongside her as a fellow lawyer. The foreign man's eyes were gentle, his own black-and-white, bowtied suit graced with broad shoulders and a welcoming chest. Years of working together in the same law firm had brought the colleagues into the circle of friendship, and then into the circle of candles and flowers. It had been more than ten years since their graduation from Lillian, and as independent working women, Sei and Youko were already pushing thirty. But even if Youko were ninety-nine, Sei would have thought that it was much, much too early.

_A fat lot of good Youko's law degree did_, thought Sei to herself.

"I do," echoed Jyuhung's deep, attractive voice.

Sei wanted to her bite off her tongue so she could hold her peace.

"I do," rang Youko's death sentence throughout the church.

And then, the Catholic priest, who was American and spoke in both English and Japanese, joined in the condemnation. "You may kiss the bride."

Ah, yes. Jyuhung the Korean groom, a pious Catholic just like the American priest he invited. And Youko… the obliging follower of Maria-sama.

Sei clapped and clapped hard, her hands a blur despite her dry eyes. She never saw Youko kiss her groom, although Sei knew she looked absolutely splendid, with a long frilled veil and an absolutely ravishing wedding gown. Were she more paranoid she could have sworn Youko wore it just to taunt her. Would the damned Holy Mother ever stop stealing from her? Her surroundings were deafening, exploding with joy and jubilation, but she could only hear a buzz, a dull ring in her skull. That was why she could clap, and clap with all her strength. She looked down at the wooden church floor, on which her polished white leather shoes were planted. Why had she bothered to keep her clothes so immaculately clean for _this_? All around her, the soeurs – the former Yamayurikai cohort who had lived through an entire aeon together – cheered on this new milestone for their beloved senior. They had all graduated, yes, and now lived their own lives, often away from each other. Yet they were united in history, in love, in reunions like this and in… feelings?

What were the ever-popular, attention-grabbing Sei's feelings right now?

She clapped, but she didn't cheer. Many would later speculate that she was too overwhelmed with emotion to join in. And in their own incorrect way, they were right.

* * *

_The year before the wedding_

"He's a good man," murmured Youko in her dark bedroom, as she looked down wistfully at Sei. "Do please listen to me."

Sei pretended to be asleep, pressing her naked torso along Youko's pillow and hugging it tighter.

"If you're the one who doesn't want marriage, then I see no reason to refuse him. Not when he has promised to give me so much. He's already proved himself, time and again." Youko's fingers lightly sifted through blonde hair. The mattress creaked slightly. "We're not teenagers, or even that young anymore. As I've said… he's a good man."

"And you're a good woman," murmured Sei, as if that was a rebuttal in itself.

"I'll miss watching over your sleeping form like this."

Sei couldn't say anything. She had forgotten how to speak.

"Won't you try to stop me?" said Youko, as if it wasn't too late yet. As if it was a playful challenge, a goad.

"You won't do it," whispered Sei, unable to look at her.

"Look at you. You lifted yourself out from the Forest of Thorns by your own strength. You were able to leave Shiori in peace and goodwill. You two are happier because of that, don't you see? Can't you lift yourself out of this… new forest of lilies? You and I have created this. I will always be here, Sei. Be your detached self. Just be as courageous as you have been all these years, and you won't need to pretend to be independent. I'm not going anywhere."

"Our third year… do you remember our third year at school? It was wonderful. Really, truly, it was just fantastic," muttered Sei helplessly.

"Of course. And I remember our four years at uni too. Surely those were our happiest months. Didn't we skip our more boring courses to sit in each other's classes?"

"How did we end up like this?"

Youko leaned down, stroking Sei's face with her hands and kissing the side of her head. "You're invited, but you should know that already."

"You trying to start a fight?"

"I didn't want to send you an invitation card. Then you would really have slapped me. But it's better to ask you this way, when you're in my bed and all warm and snug in my blankets. You'll come. You'll definitely come," whispered Youko confidently and secretively, before snuggling into bed with her trembling lover and friend. It wasn't long before they drifted off to sleep together, to meet each other in their dreams of lily gardens.

"You'll see."

* * *

Mizuno Youko and Jyuhung descend from the stairs of the church, and descending confetti herald their blissful procession to their Rolls Royce. The guests crowd around, flanking the happy couple. The bells are chiming majestically, their ringing finality silencing any potential protest. Putting a hand to her lips, Sachiko finds it difficult not to weep as Youko's gloved hand throws up the bouquet sought after by every bridesmaid. The bouquet is made of pink roses, symbolizing the generational tradition and unity of Chinensis, Foetida and Gigantea. Slender arms reach up all around Sei as Youko's inner circle – the graduated soeurs – throw up their prepared confetti. Multicolored scraps of paper, shaped like petals, shower back down on the delighted sisters. Only Sei has frozen in time as she stands, paralyzed by the weight of the moment as Youko draws nearer and nearer. Her white heels approach inexorably. Her arms have turned immobile, unable to toss up her petals. She can't even adjust her bowtie.

Waving at everyone, to her colleagues, to her friends, and to her former high school classmates, Youko innocently looks to her right, to where her husband is walking, and her eyes, by total accident, meet Sei's.

A star dies and explodes into a supernova between their gazes.

Youko cannot help staring briefly at Sei's expressionless face. Even though Sei is supposed to be just one guest among many.

_I don't know why you loved me_, muses the once-mischievous, seductive woman. Her heart is bleeding._ But I'm here. So I might as well look cool for you._

_This is goodbye, you stubborn dummy_.

Sei grins widely, her grey eyes glimmering, as she throws her own batch of confetti into the air, cheering and forcing apart her mouth so that her laughter joins all the others. Her arms are raised high, wishing Youko the greatest happiness she deserves. Their eyes linger on each other for a little longer, as the bride watches her bride-not-to-be shout out exuberantly in support of her departure for her new spouse's house.

The former Red Rose's dark eyes whisper something, but it's probably nothing of significance. She's someone else's untouchable wife now, after all.

Finally, she continues walking down the stairs, her veil brushing by the hand of her onetime fellow Rose. Her black hair is hidden beneath that white cloth, the black hair that Sei ran her fingers through for a decade.

Then, time reverts to its usual, uncompromising, relentless march. Sei's heart is pounding loudly and her hands are numb as she feels the falling bouquet from the blue, sunny sky land in her surprised arms. Youko's bouquet. In a cruel twist of fate, no bridesmaid has managed to catch it. She can't look at Youko's back as congratulators physically swamp her. Screams of adoring admiration and sentimental envy erupt around her. "Sei-sama is going to be someone's future spouse!" come the ridiculous shrieks. "Rosa Gigantea! Sei-sama!" Yumi cries out in glee, and Yoshino claps generously. Shimako and Noriko are laughing at their senior's fortune. Flashes and clicks from Tsutako and Mami's cameras. "It seems you're next," chuckles Eriko in half-serious jest, squeezing Sei's shoulder as Yamanobe-sensei hangs off her, smiling cluelessly.

How ironic, then, Sei thinks, that this bouquet will be wasted on her. Looking around at her screaming juniors, she grins half-heartedly, because Youko won't see it, so she doesn't need to make an effort to pretend.

_If not her, who?_

_Who else can hope to compare?_

_No one ever knew about… her and me._

Her arm still linked with Noriko's, Shimako glances at her grande soeur's half-smile, and her own smile instantly fades, because she knows Sei well enough to know her half-smile is far more desolate than any weeping or tears. The astute Sachiko can notice it, too, although she tells the ignorant Yumi and Touko nothing. Youko is Sachiko's grande soeur, after all.

In her magnificent white suit, Sei closes her eyes while she sniffs lightly and yearningly at the bouquet, burning the retreating back of her Red Rose in her heart. At Lillian, it was always Sei who ran from true love. Now both are simply left with a gaping hole of a question. Of what their love was for. If Sei will be the brash prince or knight who interrupts everything and whisks Youko away into a world of guiltless ecstasy. Because this love can never be healed with a mere marriage. No, that would be far too naïve. Because Youko has closed her eyes too, clutching her new husband's arm harder as she relinquishes one life for another. Sei is so much more than a lover, but she's so much more than a friend too. She is everything, a star contained in one sunbeam, a storm in a single droplet. And that, perhaps, is why a choice had to be made, and why this world has no place for someone like Satou Sei-san.

The Red Rose loses her thorn.

The White Rose loses her color.

All that remain are wilted, scattered paper petals on the ground.

* * *

**CONFETTI**

**THE END**


End file.
